Catching Cold
by ShariLove
Summary: America catches a common cold; something he has never before experienced. He calls upon England to help him, but fears that all is over! America x England. Fluuuuuff :
1. Chapter 1

**So, possibly the only reason I'm writing this right now is because Megavideo won't let me watch anime for an hour xD so I'm contenting myself with writing a fanfic~ Enjoy!**

America sat still for a long time, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. Characters flashed past through a half-woven plot, but he wasn't focused enough to catch on to what was happening. His stomach ached and, though he had eaten four times to try and rid himself of the ache, there was no curing it. His head pounded mercilessly. It was a feeling he had never known before. The oddest part of it all was his nose. His nose dripped lazily and, no matter how hard he tried to rid himself of the pool of mucus collected in his nose, it always settled back.

America watched the television fervently, hoping to distract himself. His struggles came to no avail. The feeling he was experiencing was, if not discouraging, annoying. He couldn't shake it. His heart pounded in his chest as he wondered what it could possibly be. He felt pathetic. And a hero should never be pathetic.

"What should I do?" He asked Tony. "I've never felt like this be-be-," America's words were interrupted by an earth-rattling sneeze. "-fore…" America sniffled.

America's alien friend, Tony, gazed back silently.

"You're absolutely right!" America pumped his fist, "I'll call England!"

Tony blinked and focused his large pupils on the television screen, ignoring America's chatter.

America picked up his phone and dialed England's number absentmindedly. He twirled the phone's cord in one hand and watched the television. His nose dripped, but he ignored it as he awaited England's answer impatiently.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EARLY IT IS!" England's yell echoed through the room and through America's already-pained head.

"Ow…" America winced. "England, I need your help."

"My _help_? You need my bloody _help_? With _what_, dare I ask?" America held the phone away from his ear as England's voice snapped through the line.

"I think I'm dying." America blinked.

England's voice settled down to little more than a whisper then. "…What?"

"England, I'm dying." America's voice shook as his words sunk in.

The thought only occurred to him just then, but it made sense to America. He had never felt this way before. He couldn't imagine the feeling being anything less than Death riding on his shoulders.

"America?" England asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"I'm coming right over."

**oOo**


	2. Chapter 2

**This is going to be a very short fic xD If the first chapter is any indication, anyway. I hope to end it with this chapter. We shall see!**

America felt worse with the passing hours. He was freezing one moment, and therefore wrapped himself under a cocoon of blankets, but the next moment he was so hot he could no longer stand to even look at a single blanket. His nose was so full of gunk, he felt like he might suffocate. And to make things worse, he had begun to cough. Tony was nowhere to be found. And there was nothing good on TV!

America looked at the clock every now and again. He watched the smallest hand click by nervously.

"This is it for me." He thought aloud. "I won't make it until England gets here."

But this thought was interrupted by an abrupt knock on America's door. America coughed and glared at the door, not feeling as though he could pull himself up to answer it. He rolled off of his couch with a dull thud and made to crawl toward the door when it creaked open and England poked his head into the room.

"England." America smiled weakly. "You're finally here."

England stepped into the room with an expression of horror.

"America, you look terrible!" He gasped.

America moaned. "I know."

"Is there anything I can do?" England asked, not daring to look America in the eye while the younger man looked so pathetic.

"Um." America looked around. The floor was nowhere near as comfortable as his couch had been, but he didn't have the energy to get up on his own. He hated to ask England for help, but he didn't want to die like this. "Can you…help me up?" He finally admitted to defeat.

England complied and helped America up. He led the younger man to his bedroom and tucked him in. England took America's glasses and set them carefully beside the man's bed. America watched. His face burned red with fever. He hid the nostalgic smile that dared to form on his lips as he watched England care for him.

"America, what happened?" England sat on the corner of America's bed and looked him in the eyes then.

"I don't know." America sniffled. "I ate a lot and went to sleep and when I woke up, my nose was stuffed up and I had a headache. I guess this is what death feels like."  
>England's eyebrow twitched.<p>

"A stuffy nose and a headache?" He growled. "_That_'s what this is about?"

America nodded weakly.

"YOU BLOODY WANKER! I FLEW ALL THIS WAY, WORRIED MY ASS OFF, ONLY TO FIND THAT YOU HAVE A COLD?" England shrieked.

America winced at the sound. His head felt like it was melting.

"England," America whispered, feeling even more horrible now that his headache was back, "when I die I want you to know…"

England glared at him. "Don't talk like that, America."

America shook his head and continued, "I just want you to know that…"

"Yes?" England stamped his foot impatiently, but leaned forward to hear America's words nonetheless.

"You can pay Tony the money you owe me." America finished with a deep exhalation before closing his eyes and sinking into his pillow.

"WHAT!" England swore. "You bastard! That's all you have to say to me?"

In the moments before he fell asleep, America nodded. England fumed, but watched as America fell quickly into a light doze. England sat and watched him for awhile before eventually pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping excess illness from America's nose with tender care.

"Idiot." He mumbled calmly as he returned the handkerchief to his pocket. "You think you're dying, and that's really all you can say to me?"

America snored lightly.

"You could at least tell me that you love me." England looked away then, turning his gaze to the floor. "Or maybe I expect too much of you."

America shuddered and turned in his sleep, surprising England as his hand rested on the elder man's own. England looked down at their hands. America was very warm. There was no doubt he had a fever. England sighed. He couldn't remember a time when America had ever been ill. He was such a healthy boy. It was no wonder, then, that he would assume the worst when finally he grew ill.

"But, still. An 'I love you' would have been nice." England thought aloud. "After all that I do for him, and all that I think of him, it would have been nice to know that the feeling's mutual."

England made to stand then, but America's hand clasped his own fiercely. He turned and looked at America.

The man's eyes were open. He stared directly at England.

"I love you." A frail smile adorned his lips and he coughed, but America never took his eyes off of England.

England tore his hand away.

"Bloody wanker." He grumbled. "Where are your manners? Eavesdropping… Jeez!"

He hid the smile that adorned his own face as he exited the room. America, ever sure of himself, slid back beneath his covers and promptly fell asleep.

**oOo**

**~One week later~**

America picked up his phone and dialed England's number without looking at the number pad. He twirled the phone's cord with one finger and grinned blissfully at the walls around him.

"Hello?" England's voice sounded over the phone.

"Hey, England! I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me." America laughed. "But it's okay because I fought Death tooth and nail! I feel so much better!"

"That's great. Really." England's sarcasm was lost upon America's ears.

"I know! But man," America laughed nervously. "I sure say the weirdest things when I'm fighting Death!"

"Wha-?"

"Anyway! Seeya, England!"

America slammed the phone down with finality.

"Back to normal!" He called to Tony, who sat watching him.

Though he said so, he knew that things would never go back to being truly normal. Somehow, that was alright with him.

As long as he was still the hero, that is.

**I guess I'll end it there! I couldn't find another place to end this at. I love America and England **** They're two of my favorite characters. I have a friend who is very much like America. So I guess all I have to do is think of her as I write America fics. Haha. I'm always too tired when I write these things. Please review! It'll keep me up and writing :D**


End file.
